


Pink Bracelet

by RobinPlaysTrumpet15



Series: Bracelets [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, painting as therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-06 07:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8739532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinPlaysTrumpet15/pseuds/RobinPlaysTrumpet15
Summary: Yuri wears a pink bracelet and Victor is scared of what it means.TRIGGERS!(Now updated to be easier to read with no translation problems)





	1. I'll Do It

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: POSSIBLE TRIGGERS!
> 
> I hope you like it

Victor knew that bracelet. The neon pink one that clung loosely to Yuri's wrist. He knew because he'd seen Yakov put it on older skaters when he was a teen. But not all of them. No, just the ones with the fake smiles and covered arms and bruised bodies. The ones like Yuri.

The bracelets were the kind that you put on and have to cut off when you're done with them. They are made to stay on for a long time. They're the ones summer camps use to identify who is a swimmer or a non swimmer. Waterproof, made of some fabricky paper.

They were pink. Bright pink. Made to be seen, but not really questioned. They were a way of identifying.

It held significance.

The bracelet made Victor scared for the younger Russian.

As Yuuri went out for his six minute warm up on the ice with the rest of Group 2, Victor sidled closer to his former coach, careful to keep a free eye on his skater.

"Yakov, how long?" Victor asked in a low voice. The older man didn't look at him, just kept his eyes trained on Yuri.

"You noticed, did you?" Yakov said. Victor didn't reply, just waited for his answer.

Yakov sighed sadly. "We found scabs and scars on his arms during practice last week. I don't know how long he's been doing it. At least a week."

Victor nodded glumly. He'd worried about Yuri for a long time. The teen was too hard on himself, and he took that out on other people around him. It was something Victor had seen take down many skaters. All some had to show for it was a funeral, leaving friends and families to wonder why. 

Victor learned early on to not make a habit of ignoring his needs, especially his mental ones. After his own close call and a pink bracelet, Victor learned to keep an eye on his thoughts and actions, in turn watching his fellow skaters more carefully as well. During the last competition, Victor had realized that, had Yuuri been coached under Yakov, he would have been put in a pink bracelet too.

"How is he doing?" Victor asked. He smiled inwardly, watching as Yuuri landed a jump perfectly.

Fine, but I won't say better. He's never alone accept at night when he refuses to have a 'babysitter'."

"And no more marks?"

"Not really. Sometimes we'll catch him with his nails ripping at skin, but... it doesn't do much damage to him physically."

"But mentally?"

"He has outright refused to talk to anyone. And he has made it impossible for me or Lilia to contact his grandfather." Yakov's frown deepened at the sight of Yuri falling and crashing hard into the ice. The six minutes were almost up.

"I'll do it. He won't expect me to try." Victor offered. Yakov looked at him finally in surprise.

"And why would you do that?" Yakov asked. "He is your skater's competition."

"Because, Yakov, I've been there..." Victor watched as the skaters headed off of the rink. "Or have you forgotten?"

Victor walked away then, joining Yuuri and leaving the room to wait in the warm up area. They were silent as Yuuri began stretching and Victor took out his phone. A second and it was buzzing with a text from his former coach. 

-Here is the number. Be discreet about it. Have better luck than we did

Victor typed out a quick reply before tapping Yuuri's shoulder. When the younger man looked up, Victor made a quick motion that he'd be back before tapping on the link to the number. Yuuri nodded and resumed stretching.

Viktor figured the best place would be the stairwell to the parking garage beneath the rink. Standing a floor down in the dim, chilly stairwell, he waited as the phone rang.

A moment and a voice on the other end was greeting him. "Hello?"

"Hi. Is this Nikolai Plisetsky?" Victor replied.

"Yes, this is he. Who is this?"

"This is Victor Nikiforov. I'm calling in regards to your grandson, Yuri." Victor leaned against the concrete wall behind him, his stomach feeling as if it were quivering.

"What happened to him? Is he alright?" Nikolai's voice became rushed, worry evident in his tone.

"He's safe, I promise. Yakov would have called about this, but Yuri is insistent that you not find out."

"Find out about what?" Nikolai asked, seeming to lose a little bit of patience.

"Yuri has been hurting himself." Victor let his head fall back gently against the wall. He wanted to sink down to the ground and hold his knees as tightly as he could. Lord, and he thought he could do this...

"How?"

"Mr. Plisetsky, Yuri has been cutting himself."

"What?! Why?! He's a good boy, why would he do such a thing?" Victor had to hold the phone away from his ear slightly at the volume of the old man's voice.

"I... I don't know, Mr. Plisetsky. You'll have to ask him that. For now, though, he is fine. Yakov has been keeping him under close supervision. I suggest you wait to bring this up to Yuri until this competition is over tomorrow." Victor said, willing his voice to stay calm.

Nikolai sighed deeply. "I suppose you're right. I will talk to him. Thank you for telling me, Victor."

"I hope he opens up to you."

"Me too. Goodbye." Nikolai sighed again.

"Bye." Victor pulled his phone away from his cheek and clicked ended the call. He sucked in a deep, shuttering breath, running a hand through his hair.

He began making his way back up the stairs, missing how a small dark shadow hid quickly behind a corner on his way out the door. Back in the waiting room, Victor took up a place next to Yuuri, who gave him a questioning look.

"Victor, what was that about?" Yuuri asked, taking an earbud out.

"Nothing. I'll tell you later."

Yuuri stared for a moment before shrugging it off and went back to his stretches. Victor's eyes drifted across the room where Yuri had just come in and placed himself on a bench beside his coach. Vaguely, he wondered why Yuri had been gone and why he'd been alone. The look on Yakov's face seemed to ask the same question.


	2. Nights of Colors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri gets Yuri out for a while and talks to him about some stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the great support I have already gotten on this story. Again, all foreign languages have been translated. :)

Bzzz… Bzzz… Bzzz… 

Yuuri jerked awake, reaching over for his phone in the dark. Without looking, he accepted the incoming call, holding the cell up to his ear.

“Hello?” Yuuri mumbled, head flopping back down onto his pillow.

“Hey, Katsuki.”

Suddenly Yuuri was sitting straight up in bed. He carded his fingers through his hair, pushing the still damp black locks out of his face.

“Hey, Yurio. What’s up?” Yuuri asked. He could almost hear the 15 year old bristling at the nickname.

“I told you not to call me that!” Yuri shouted. “I want to know something.”

“Okay, yeah, sure.”

“What did Victor tell you yesterday?” Yuri demanded.

Yuuri realized suddenly why the younger skater was calling him. “Victor didn’t tell me anything, Yuri.”

“Yes he did! I know he did, piggy!” Yuri yelled.

“Well, Yuri, I won’t tell you anything if you keep insulting me.” There was sudden silence.

“I’m sorry, Yuuri…”

Yuuri smirked. “Now that’s more like it.”

“Will you please tell me what Victor told you?”

“Yuri, before I tell you that, why don’t you tell me what the pink bracelet means.” Yuuri said casually, sitting back against his pillow and getting comfortable.

“I… I can’t…” Yuri’s voice was abnormally soft. He seemed hesitant.

“Why can’t you?” Yuuri asked.

“Yakov doesn’t… he doesn’t like for it to be public knowledge.”

“And is he with you now?”

“Well, no.”

“Then tell me. If I really want to know, then I’ll just ask Victor and then I’ll know either way.”

Yuuri knew full well what the pink bracelet meant. Victor had in fact been telling him right before Yuuri had gotten the call about Makkachin. So, maybe he was stalling for time. Or maybe he just wanted Yuri to open up to him under his own free will, and not because Yuuri already knew what had happened.

Yuri was silent for a moment. So silent, Yuuri was sure that the teen had hung up on him. Carefully, Yuuri pulled the phone away from his cheek, the screen lighting up again to show that the call was still in progress.He shrugged to himself, content to let Yuri take his time.

“I… I did something I shouldn’t have…” The voice on the other end of the line hardly sounded like the small blonde Russian at all. It was soft and scared, mumbling with a hard accept that Yuuri found a little difficult to make out.

“You’re okay, Yuri. Whatever it was, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.” Lies. Complete lies, and Yuuri knew it too. All Victor had told him was what had happened, not how bad it had been. Nothing had been said about Yuri’s physical health, or where he was mentally after all of it. No matter that, though, it was bad.

“I… I can’t stay here any longer, Yuuri…”

Yuuri’s stomach dropped straight to the floor. That didn’t sound good no matter what context you put it in. “What do you mean?”

“I feel like I’m suffocating. I’ve been here for next to no time at all in the past couple of months but it feels stifling with all these people around and all the expectations…”

Yuuri knew he was going to regret what he was going to do next, he just knew it. “Why don’t you come over here for a while?”

“What?” Yuri seemed shocked at the least.

“Yeah. I’ll catch a cab and come pick you up. If you need some fresh air and knew scenery, then that’s what you need. Tell Yakov or whoever you’re with that I’m coming to get you.” Yuuri said. Though past experience told him time with Yuri was not always pleasant, human decency and attempting at a friendship told him otherwise. This was going to be fine. Besides, Yuri needed someone right now, and Yuuri was willing to be that someone.

“O-okay.”

Turns out, Yuri was staying a lot closer than he had originally expected. So, despite the cold, Yuuri chose to walk to the hotel Yuri had said he’d been staying at. When he entered the lobby, he saw the teen standing anxiously by the elevator, watching the doors.

Yuuri expected more of a hostile welcome, to be sure. What he got was Yuri walking briskly over to him and latching onto his arm. It caught the black haired man of guard and surprised him, but it wasn’t bad. So they turned around and headed right back to Yuuri’s hotel that was two blocks away.

When they were safely shut back in the room, Yuuri motioned for the younger to sit down. He took up a place on the bed he’d been using as Yuri sat stiffly on the other.

“So, wanna tell me what this is all about?” Yuuri requested.

“The pink bracelet is for… um… problems.” Yuri said. He pushed at his left sleeve slightly to tug at the pink paper band on his wrist. It was crumpled and seemed to be a few days old. Yuuri wondered how often the bands were changed. “When you… when there’s something wrong… Yakov uses the bands to call attention to it.”

“Why?”

“Well, so that he can keep an eye on us. And so that the other skaters we train with know that we need… something.” Yuri clarified. The whole thing seemed a little complicated to Yuuri. Sure, Victor had done a little explaining earlier that afternoon, but not enough to really know the idea behind it.

“What is ‘something’?” Yuuri questioned.

“It depends. Sometimes it’s space, other times it’s attention. Some people need to talk, others just need to be kept under close watch.”

“What do you need?” Yuuri asked. When the younger looked up with a surprised expression on his face, Yuuri wondered if he had ever been asked that.

“I don’t know what I need.”

For now, Yuuri let that slide, but made a mental note to come back to it. “Alright. So, what is the cause for needing the bracelet in the first place?”

Yuri shrugged. “It varies. Some of us need it for a physical issue like a sprained ankle, twisted wrist, asthma. Others need it for anxiety or lack of sleep, or depression.”

“So, a pink bracelet symbolizes all of those things? That seems like a lot.”

“Oh, um, yeah. That’s the thing. There are other colors. Orange ones are what you put on for a day and then take off. They’re used for things like lack of sleep or appetite, or are having asthma problems. Then there’s yellow and those are for things that will last a couple days, but no longer than a week. That’s often the twisted wrist or a persistent upset sleep/diet schedule. Blue is for long term injuries lasting a week or more.” Yuri said, counting the colors off on his fingers.

“What about pink?” Yuuri said, leaning his elbows on his knees.

“To be determined, until foreseeable future, at discretion of coach.” Yuri mumbled quietly.

“And it’s for?” Yuuri had to try hard not to stare, gaping at the teen before him. He knew this was bad, but he didn’t realize there was a system in place to categorize just how bad this was.

“Any form of chronic depression or other mental illness as well as… self harm and suicide attempts…”

The room was silent for several minutes. Yuuri didn’t know what to say, and Yuri didn’t seem willing to continue talking. Though he seemed more at ease than he had been in the lobby of his hotel, he’d had his fill of talking. It was already more than he had planned on saying tonight, hoping that the other man would do most of it.

Suddenly a loud ringtone was sounding through the room. Yuri was scrambling to pull the phone from his pocket and unlocking it.

“Yeah?” Yuri said. “No, I’m not alone.”

Yuuri wonder who he was talking to.

“I’m with Katsuke.” Yuri sad into the phone. “Yes, I did. I told you I was leaving and who I would be with.”

After a pause, the blonde began to get angry. “Stop turning this against me! You don't have to watch my every move! I'm not a child! I can take care of myself.”

Another pause. “I know I don’t need you yelling at me!”

Yuri angrily ended the call, throwing the phone down on the bed. He sat there for a moment, his arms hugging his torso and hot, angry tears cascading down his cheeks. Yuuri said nothing as he moved shakily to his feet. He didn’t want to scare the younger Russian, but Yuri needed someone to comfort him.

Yuuri silently slipped onto the mattress beside the blonde and pulled him into a hug. Usually, Yuri would have fought it, unwilling to be part of such an act of comfort with the older man. But this was different and they both knew it. After a few moments, Yuuri grew braver, pulling Yuri closer into his side and letting his cry on his shoulder. The tears cooled quickly on his shirt, but that was fine. It didn’t matter.

“I’m sorry, Yuuri…” the blonde cried. “I shouldn’t have done it, but I wanted to so bad… I still do, sometimes…”

Yuuri rubbed one hand up and down Yuri’s left arm, shushing him gently. Yuuri had never had any younger siblings, but he imagined if he had gone through something like this with them, this is how he would have handled it. He would have taken a leaf out of his mother’s book and held them, cooing to them softly until they calmed down.

“You’re alright. Everything will be alright.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

“How?” Yuri questioned, his face still firmly pressed into Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Because everything will be alright in the end. If it’s not alright, then it’s not the end.” Yuuri whispered, stroking back some blonde locks of hair from Yuri’s face. “It’s not the end, I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had previously been thinking of doing an explanation about the pink bracelet, and this seemed like the best way to do it. Thanks for reading, and let me know what you think. If you find any mistakes, please let me know so that I can fix them. Also, come join me here on Tumblr and feel free to ask about this, or send in some writing prompts :)


	3. Plans To Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri breaks down and Victor and Yuuri aren't sure what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. It's been a few days since I posted chapter two. I meant to have this up sooner, but I got a bit of writer's block. Anyway, let me know what you think :)

-Call Yuri. He isn't answering his phone

That text had Victor flying through his contacts, searching for Yuri's name. When he came to it, he called, holding the phone up to his ear and waiting, desperate for the teen to pick up. The first call ended in a voice mail, and so did the next three. On the fifth call, the line connected after the third ring.

"Why are... are you calling... me?" the teen demanded weakly. His voice sounded rough, and Victor could almost see the blonde wracked in tears in his mind.

"Yuri, why aren't you answering when people call?" Victor asked. His heart was racing. Yuri was not okay, and he could hear it in the teen's voice.

"I want to be left alone! I'm never allowed to be alone anymore and I can't... I can't do it anymore, Victor!"

"What's going on?" Victor all but demanded. He needed to know that this was something he could fix, not something irreversible.

"Why do you care?! Why are you meddling?! You had to go and tell on me to my grandpa and now he won't stop looking at me like he has never seen me before!" Yuri yelled into the phone. Victor felt his heart break a little.

"He's just worried about you, Yuri. We all are." Victor assured him.

"Well, stop! Nothing has gotten better since Lilia saw the scars! Everything just gets worse and worse!" Yuri shouted. Victor could imagine the tears flowing harder and faster. "I can never be alone in a room anymore! Even when I shower, someone sits outside the door to meet me when I'm done. Every sharp object around the house has been locked away somewhere, including my housekey and all the butter knives! I'm not even allowed in the kitchen! I'm surprised I'm even allowed near ice skates!"

Suddenly Victor could hear a pained gasp and a choked sob. Victor knew that sound. He knew it all too well. 

"Yuri, stop! Whatever you're doing, stop it now!" Victor cried.

Yuuri came running into the room with his mother at his heels. "Victor, what's wrong?"

The silver haired man shook his head, eyes wild. He waved Yuuri off for a moment.

"I... I want to! But I... I can't, Victor. You have to know. You have to understand..." Yuri said. Then the line went dead.

"No! Yuri!" Victor yelled. Over by the door, Yuuri and Mrs. Katsuki were looking rather terrified though they couldn't understand the language.

In two seconds flat, Victor had Nikolai Plisetsky on the phone.

"Hello?" Nikolai answered.

"Nikolai, is Yuri home with you?" Victor demanded.

"Yes. He's in the house." the man replied with a cheerful tone.

"Go check on him, I think he's done something." Victor said. Before Nikolai could respond, Victor was ending the call and turning back to Yuuri. The younger man was pale, all the blood seemingly have drained from him. 

"Victor. Tell me what happened, now!"

Victor was rushing forward and enveloping his boyfriend in a hug, trying to hide just how much he was shaking. "Yuuri, he's done something. God, he's just getting worse! They aren't helping him, they're just suffocating him!"

Yuuri didn't respond right away. He wrapped his arms around Victor and held him, grateful to be held as well. He wanted to help Yuri. He wanted to understand. Though, he had a sneaking suspicion that Yuri didn't understand either.

"He'll be alright. He's in good hands, I'm sure." Yuuri assured weakly.

Victor shook his head, pulling back from the younger, black haired man. "He isn't going to respond to this the way I did. He already isn't. Yuri isn't meant to be kept under lock and key."

Something about that sentence threw Yuuri for a loop. Respond the way Victor did? What was that about?

"I don't think there's all that much we can do..." Yuri whispered, a look of resigned sadness settling over his face. He'd bring what Victor said up later. Now wasn't really the time.

"We have to do something, Yuuri." A determined look settles in Victor's eyes. They shine and flash, and Yuuri resigned himself then and there. Whatever Victor was thinking, Yuuri would help.

"What do you propose we do?" he asked.

"I'm not sure yet." Victor pulls away and turns to stare out the window. The outdoors were beautiful, that was for sure. The trees, with their leaves all gone, and a grey light seeming to hang around, even in the middle of the day. Though it wasn't the most gorgeous thing he'd ever scene, he committed it to memory anyway.

Mrs. Katsuki excused herself, Yuuri promising to fill her in later. Victor found himself sitting on the bed, wrapped up in the younger skater's arms. Before long, the two were dozing quietly together, their thoughts slow and muddled, fuzzy at the edges and wandering here and there.

The buzz of Victor's phone pulled them both back towards consciousness. As Victor answered, Yuuri gazed out the window. The world outside had gone red and orange with the sunset. It was pretty, pinks and purples mixing and flowing together into shadows among walls and clouds. Yuuri kept that image tucked safely away for another day, content to let the beauty ease him.

Victor hung up the phone and stared down at his hands for a moment.

"Who was that?"

"Yuri's grandfather. He found Yuri cutting himself with an exacto knife. He got him cleaned up, but Yuri refused to go to the hospital. Nikolai and Yakov had an idea..." Victor said, not making eye contact with his boyfriend.

"And that is?"

"They want us to come stay with Yuri until the Grand Prix Final." Victor's blue eyes met Yuuri's brown ones. They were almost sort of pleading, as if the man expected him to say no. What he didn't know was that Yuuri would never turn this down. Yuri was quickly feeling like a younger brother that Yuuri wanted to protect at all times.

"Okay. Let's go."

Victor brightened a little. He hugged Yuuri again, nuzzling into the pale skin at his neck. "I'll call Nikolai back tomorrow morning."

Yuuri nodded. "Let's go eat something and get ready for bed, yeah?"

"Yeah."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think and feel free to talk to me about this or anything else really on Tumblr


	4. Energy (Or Lack Thereof)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri spends time with his friend and gets some visitors to help him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all. I expected this to be up sooner, honestly. But I've had a bad couple days ever since my Christmas Concert at school. Anyway, I hope you like this new chapter. Let me know of any mistakes you find so I can fix them.

Yuri was tired. He'd never really been a 'people person', and that was coming out now. He preferred to spend time alone in his room. Sure, the door was open, and he could see his grandpa sitting in the living room just down the hall, but it was the most secluded his life got anymore.

On weekdays, he had practice with Yakov and Lilia from seven until four or five, depending on how hard he pushed himself that day. On weekends, he helped his grandpa clean the house, go shopping, and then sit around until someone inevitably showed up to get him out of the house for a while. He hated it. He hated every single second of it.

He'd taken to practicing in long sleeve shirts, hiding the bracelet on his wrist. He felt exposed with it showing, like if he lifted his shirt and showed off his brand new scarring scabs on his waist and hips.

Honestly, he resented the bright pink of the bracelet. It was noticeable and it drew attention. He found the other skaters and his grandfather staring at it from time to time. One day, he's cut it off. It took Yakov a little over a day to realize it was missing. After that, his coach used a different type of bracelet. It was still just as bright and just as pink, but now it was plastic, hard to cut, and sparkly.

'Well, at least it has a little more class than the paper one...' Yuri had thought to himself, looking it over in the shower.

But he couldn't handle the constant changing of hands he did. Someone was always looking after him and then pushing him off on someone else. It made Yuri feel more like a burden than anything else. His grandpa seemed more run down than usual. Yakov's frown was deeper, and Lilia's probing questions just made something down in Yuri's stomach twist with an awkward, embarrassed feeling.

In truth, the only person who hadn't forced the feeling to surface in him at been Katsuki. Yuuri had held him in a way that just made him feel safe and... cared for. He hadn't ignored the problem, he'd treated it as normal. Yuuri had accepted it as something the teen lived with and was part of him, not something Yuri could just turn off and on when he felt like it. He understood. Even the short "conversations" Yuri'd had with Victor didn't hold the same level of strange or awkward that he was used to from people.

In short, he supposed he missed them, though they were in Japan. And there was no way in hell anyone was taking an eye off him long enough for Yuri to leave again.

"Yuri." His head snapped up to see his grandfather standing in the doorway. He shifted slightly on the bed, uncomfortably meeting the older man's gaze.

"Yes?" Yuri said, hands twisting in his lap.

"How would you feel if Yuuri and Victor came here to visit?" the man seemed apprehensive and unsure, voicing his question. His normally rough voice was low, almost soothing.

Yuri thought a moment. Would his grandpa and Yakov really allow for the two men to visit him? How much do they know about the extent of Yuuri's and Victor's help? Probably a lot given that Victor was the one to tell his grandfather in the first place. But Yuuri?

"I would... I would like that."

Nikolai nodded his head, averting his eyes to the ground and leaving the room. Yuri ducked his head, the uncomfortable feeling churning in his gut again. He attempted to outrun it, burrowing himself beneath the covers on his bed and staying there, refusing to go out when Nikita showed up later.

Of course, Nikita refused to just leave. Yuri may have shot down leaving his house, or even his bed, but the other boy was just as willing to join him.

So Nikita toed off his shoes quietly, leaving them by the door with his coat, and crawled under the blankets too. His jeans and hands were cold from being outside, but Yuuri snuggled into him anyway.

Nikita was just over half a year younger than himself, and had been in the same year at school. He'd moved here from England when he was almost ten. His mother had been Russian and when his father died, they'd decided to move back to her childhood town. Nikita spoke better English than he did Russian, more able to read it and write than speak it. He always said the syllables and sounds just didn't form on his tongue the right way. His twin brother Stepan agreed with him.

"How're we doin' today?" Nikita asked, carding his fingers through the ends of Yuri's pale blonde hair.

Yuri shrugged his shoulders, content to let his nose rest in the fabric of Nikita's shirt. He smelled like a grove of evergreen trees, as if he found a place in the woods and climbed around in the branches for a while. The scent was fresh, but heavy, grounding Yuri in the present, keeping him focussed.

"I like your cologne, Kita." Yuri mumbled.

The younger teen laughed lightly. "Thanks, Yuri. You know, you can get some too."

He shook his head, holding onto the brunette harder. "Like it on you better."

Nikita rolled his eyes good naturedly. Yuri had said that ever since he'd begun wearing it a year ago.

They stayed there until Nikolai came to get them for dinner. Yuri preferred time with few people where they say nothing and do very little. Laying together with the boy he may or may not have had a crush on when he was younger was easier than being dragged around the town by Georgi (or anyone else, for that matter).

Nikita left after dinner, and Yuri opted to go with him, knowing they'd only be out long enough to walk to his friend's house and come back. They'd decided to stay the night together.

"Yuri." Nikita said as they walked through the cold. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, nose turned a bright red. He hated the cold, and always had. His body temp ran low and made him more susceptible to illness and cold temperature.

"Yeah?"

"Would you be okay if I wasn't around for a while?" he didn't look over at his friend, but Yuri stopped dead in his tracks.

"What?"

Nikita was stopping short too. "Not the way you think!" He was whirling around and taking hold of Yuri's shoulders. The blonde was jumping away suddenly, pulling out of Nikita's grasp.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Nikita was drawing back to his own space. Yuri's green eyes were fixed pointedly at the ground. He kept his hands firmly in his pockets, elbows tucked close to his sides. "I just meant that my mom wants to go on a vacation. She's planning to leave in about a week and we won't be back until the Grand Prix is over..."

Silence. Yuri didn't say anything, and Nikita wished he would.

"Yuri?"

"That's fine." Suddenly the blonde was shaking it off, pulling an easy smile out of seemingly nowhere and stepping back up beside his friend. His hooked their arms together and all but forced Nikita to start walking again.

Yuri did strange things sometimes, Nikita would admit that. But that whole exchange was verging on... worrying...

*

A few days later and Yuri was in the car with his grandfather, driving over to the ice rink. The last thing Yuri wanted to be doing was practicing, honestly. Today was one of the better days where he hadn't fought himself to get out of bed. He'd made himself a descent breakfast, and most importantly, he didn't feel as if he was dragging himself to do anything. For that reason and that reason only, Yuri felt more like taking a day to spend time with people. He wanted to go get Nikita out of bed and drag him around for a while. He wanted to convince Nikita to skate with him even though the younger teen was terrible on the ice.

Really, he was up for just about anything. But not practice. He didn't want to waste time practicing when he could be spending what little time was left with his friend before the Grand Prix ended.

"Just try to practice today, Yuri. I think you'll enjoy it." Nikolai said to him, keeping his eyes on the road. He took a quick glance over at him grandson, noting how there was a frown there.

"Enjoy what? It's just another day I can't spend with Nikita while I get pushed by Yakov and Lilia to do better." Yuri said. He knew he was pouting, and that it was a little unwarranted, but he felt good today. He knew he needed practice, and something inside him did want to, but why waste the energy now that he has it doing something he can do every other day?

His grandpa sighed heavily. "Just try. You never know what might happen."

Yuri groaned at that, unwilling to fight with his grandfather. Either way, he knew he'd lose and still end up at practice. He could only hope that Yakov and Lilia would be a little gentler today. 

*

As it turned out, they planned on taking a rather easy day. So easy, in fact, that they weren't even at the rink when Yuri showed up. Glancing at the clock, he realized he was early anyway and that maybe today they would just be a little bit later than him. Twenty minutes on the ice proved otherwise though.

Yuri glided over to the side of the rink, grabbing his phone from where he'd left it. A text waited for him, saying that Yakov and Lilia had no plans to show up that day and would instead be leaving practice to Yuri and two surprise visitors.

Honestly, the sound of that was frightening. Surprise visitors? Yuri had energy today, but not enough for that. No way in hell. Of course, he wasn't about to leave though, not when it was snowing outside and-

"Yuri!"

His green eyes shot up to lock on the speaker.

Victor Nikiforov and Yuuri Katsuki stood just inside the door to the rink. Yuuri looked a little tired, but Victor was smiling brightly and waving.

"Oh..." Yuri said. He felt a jump, seeing the two. It was a strange sort of excitement that he was used to feeling by now. He genuinely enjoyed their company, but he'd also been kinda mean to Yuuri before. There had been several times when he wanted to apologize to the older man, but his pride wouldn't let him. After the last competition though, he was willing to work on that.

Before he could stop himself, he was unlacing his skates just about as fast as he could, throwing them away to skid across the ice. Yuri went flying off the rink, running forward and wrapping the two in a hug.

"Ah!" Yuuri exclaimed. "Hi! How are you?"

Yuri just held them tighter, a small smile spreading across his face. Maybe today was going to be alright after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and let me know what you think! :)


	5. Sunsets and Rainbow Swirls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri has a good day that goes sour. Victor teaches Yuri a method to cope with his self harm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Sorry this chapter is so late in the coming. I lost a little bit of attention for a bit, but thanks to yesterday's episode and my new playlist on youtube, I've gotten this chapter done and ready to be posted. I hope you like it.

When Yuuri and Victor suggested skipping out on practice for the day, Yuri was all too happy to go along with it. He had the entire day, two people who were more than willing to stick around, and more energy than he was used to anymore. Today was going to be a good day, Yuri was sure.

“When did you get here?” he asked. They walked along the sidewalk together, Yuri sandwiched between the two older men. Though it was cold, and there were snowflakes catching in his hair, he felt warm. They didn’t touch him, but walked close enough that he could comfortably reach out for them if he so desired.

Victor shrugged, an easy grin on his lips. “Last night. We were going to tell you we landed earlier, but somebody was jet lagged.”

Yuuri sent a playful frown over at his boyfriend. “Well, sorry, some people don’t handle it well.” Victor laughed, pulling a begrudging chuckle from the younger man too.

Yuri walked along quietly, a small smile in place. This was nice… Refreshing, almost. Maybe he didn’t like going into town with Lilia or Georgi, or even Nikita, but the two older skaters brought an air of lightness to everything. They didn’t pressure him about what happened nearly five days ago. There was no worried glancing, careful watching, or constant touching. They just let him be. For now, anyway.

Yuri knew that at some point, they would ask. Victor and Yuuri would give up the charade of trusting him, treating him normally, acting like nothing happened.

Subconsciously, Yuri’s eyebrows pulled together and his smile turned down. Yuuri noted that when he turned to look at the younger.

“Alright, Yuri. Is there any place you’d like to go?” the black haired man asked. The blonde kept looking ahead as he shrugged, his expression shocked back to a resting flatline, which Yuuri supposed was a little better than a frown.

“Window shopping it is.” Victor decided. Yuri nodded and followed along as Victor sped up a little.

*

Hours later, the three were sitting at a fast food restaurant, eating lunch. Yuri was back to smiling and laughing, teasing Yuuri every once in awhile, though not harshly the way he had before. (Yuuri found the change rather nice.)

“Yuri, how’s practice going?”

“Fine, I guess. It’s nothing spectacular.” Yuri responded, chewing slowly. He found himself not really all that hungry, but willing to eat. At home, his grandfather occasionally had to fight him on eating. It varied from day to day who won those fights.

“That’s alright. It’s just practice, after all.” Victor assured.

It was quiet for a few moments, just the sound of other conversations floating around them.

“How long will you be here?” Yuri asked, not looking up from his food.

“A week and a half. After that we’ll have to head back to Japan and finish out practice for the Grand Prix.”

Yuri nodded. A week and a half seemed like a long time for a visit, but he knew from experience just how short that can be. Before he knew it, Victor and yuuri would be gone.

They finished eating in an almost comfortable silence. When they got up to leave, Victor pulled Yuuri into his side under his arm, and held Yuri closer on his other side. Neither fought it as they walked along, unconsciously making for the exit of the mall to leave and walk home.

Victor and Yuuri allowed the teen to lead them back to the ice rink (even though Victor was sure he could find it) where they found Nikolai waiting in the car for them.

Yuri and Yuuri climbed into the back as Victor took the passenger seat next to the older man.

“Hello, Yuri. Did you have a good time?” Nikolai asked. He seemed strangely emotionless as he asked.

Yuri smiled brightly, nodding his head. At that, a contented smile grew and settled on the old man’s face.

“Good, I am glad. What did you do?”

“Not much. We walked around the mall and got something to eat before coming back.” Yuri said. He looked out the window, watching buildings pass by on their way back to his house. He wondered if Victor and Yuuri would stay the rest of the day and if he’d be able to introduce them to Nikita. The brunette and his family weren’t leaving for vacation for a few day, and Yuri had every intention of taking advantage of that time.

After a second, Yuuri was starting up another conversation with the blonde, asking about his friends and how everyday life went for him. Yuri assumed this was to either distract him from his thoughts or just so that the brown eyed man could get a feel for what he was in for for the next week and a half. So he told Yuuri about Nikita and Stepan Taylor and the general bore that every day was. As he talked, he heard Victor and his grandfather slip into Russian and speak quietly to each other. He tried to pick up on the conversation, but all he caught was “worried” and “time bomb”.

Yuri tried not to let that get him down. He pushed those words away as he focussed on the joke Yuuri had just made. He laughed at it, the sound coming out a little forced, though he was fairly certain the man didn’t catch onto it.

*

Yesterday had been light. It had been easy. Today very much like that too, though Yuri felt higher. He woke up like he was soaring on a cloud. He got ready in a whirlwind of motion, finding himself dressed and ready before Nikolai was even out of bed. Despite the dark and the cold outside, Yuri was up and ready to do something, so he headed out to take a jog before anyone else was even contemplating getting up yet.

He took the pace a little faster than he usually did, going around the block and then the nearby park before going back. He wasn’t sure just how long he’d been gone, but it seemed like a while, given that the park was by no means small and had quite a few winding paths that he’d followed. Yuri could feel himself floating higher than he usually did, a crazy sort of excitement growing in his chest, ready for him to start the day and get a move on.

As he opened the back door and came into the house, Yuri heard hurried footsteps coming towards him. As he entered the living room, his grandfather, Victor, and Yuuri came into the room. They all wore similarly worried expressions, their eyebrows furrowed and high on their foreheads, frowns on their lips.

“Yuri!” they all called at the same time. The blonde stopped in his tracks, one hand halfway reached up to pull the tie from his hair.

“What?” he said.

“Where were you?!”

“You’ve been gone for two hours!”

“Why didn’t you tell us you were leaving?”

Yuri stared at them blankly for several breaths, the three adults watching him for any sign of an answer. After a moment, he smiled at them.

“Oh, sorry. I must have forgotten.” Yuri pulled his hair out of its ponytail and shook it out, ruffling it a bit as he moved towards his bedroom.

“W-what? You forgot?” his grandfather demanded.

“Sorry, Grandpa.” Yuri said with a smile, pulling off his jacket and tossing it on his bed. He picked up his phone from where he must have left it on his bedside table. There were a few notifications on his twitter, and a snap from Nikita. He lifted the phone, took a selfie, and sent it back with the caption “Morning, Kita ;3”. He was vaguely aware of a hurried, rather frustrated sounding argument going on in the kitchen, and was a little startled to realize it was in Russian. With Yuuri in the house, they were all making a point to stay in English for his sake.

“Yuri…” He turned to look at the speaker. Yuuri stood outside his bedroom door, a hand on the doorframe. “Are you alright?”

“I feel great!” Yuri assured.

“Uh, well, maybe you should take a day off?” Yuuri said, gaze twitching back and forth between Yuri’s eyes, looking for any giveaway.

“Why? Today’s going to be awesome, you’ll see.”

*

The day had gone rather well. Practice was good, and Yuri felt more confident in his skating and ballet than he had in awhile. Yakov and Lilia were impressed with Yuri’s improved mood and confidence. He’d worn short sleeves that day, pulling on his favorite purple shirt that had a glittery, glowing tiger on it. The sparkly pink bracelet was almost sort of reflective, but not nearly as much as Yuri was. On the ice he seemed to shine brighter than the sun, his smile off the ice twinkling like stars.

The crash came at one o’clock in the morning, the house dark and silent except for Yuri’s room. He hadn’t eaten anything all day, lying to his grandfather and coaches, though unable to convince Victor and Yuuri. For the sake of keeping things calm, they hadn’t said anything about it, but Yuri could feel them watching him, keeping near him though not smothering him the way everyone else had.

Somewhere around eleven, Yuri couldn’t remember what happened. His memory went blank, black space occupying two hours of time before he came back to reality again. The next thing he knew was curled up on the shower floor, hands gripping at his sides and eyes squeezed shut as tears slipped down his face, mixing with the hot water spraying down on him. He must have screamed. He could feel the vibrations in his throat, ripping it raw, but he couldn’t hear anything. It was like the world was on mute. He could see the side of the tub, the water running down the drain, his nails beginning to dig into skin, but there was no sound.

He didn’t hear the door as it banged open. He didn’t hear the worried cries as Victor shut off the water and hauled him bodily out of the shower. He didn’t hear his own unintelligible babbling or Victor shushing him, pulling a towel around his body and all but dragging him from the bathroom.

The world sped up, blurring to something like a movie on fast forward. Yuuri was rubbing a towel over his hair and combing it out gently. Victor dug out the softest pair of lounge pants Yuri owned, asking the blonde to put them on. Vaguely, he remembered shuffling into the pants, the fluffy material acting almost like a cushion on his legs. He rubbed his fingers over it again and again, the world slowing down again to normal, a vague buzzing bringing sound back to his world.

Yuuri was whispering quietly, pulling the comb through damp blonde hair, continuing to work it as it dried. Victor had disappeared quietly, coming back just as suddenly. He laid things out on the bed before Yuri’s crossed legs. There were paintbrushes and a rainbow of face paint containers.

Victor looked at Yuri, saying something, but he couldn’t make out the words. Everything was still too soft, too quiet for him to pick up on much. Suddenly Victor was leaning closer, sitting on the side of the bed and bringing his lips an inch from the blonde’s ear.

“Let me show you something.” Victor said. Without thinking, Yuri nodded, agreeing to whatever it was that the silver haired man had in mind.

Victor was leaning away again, grabbing a paintbrush and the bottle of purple paint. Yuri watched closely as Victor dipped the brush in the paint and brought it to Yuri’s arm. The place he picked was riddled with healing scratches and soft pink scars crossing together. The man spread purple all over Yuri’s arm, settling the brush back in the bottle when he was done with it. Another brush was dipped into the red, swirls appearing in the purple, mixing. A few minutes and the paint was drying a little, blue dots and circles added on top.

There didn’t seem to be any picture in mind, no rhyme or reason to the patterns Victor created on Yuri’s skin. As time went on, the paint spread further up and down his arm, reaching towards his shoulder and wrist.

Something about it eased the tightening in the blonde’s chest. Watching as inaccurate triangles and squares appeared in green and yellow, orange stars joining them along the back of his hand and his fingers, a bright blue smiley face suddenly winking at him from his palm.

Yuri’s face stayed still, a flatline of polite interest. The feeling he of wanting to rip at his skin was easing, draining out of him and leaving him feeling better, watching paint slowly dry on his skin, the soft slide of the brush tickling him. When Victor was done, he set the paints and brushes aside on the nearly over cluttered bedside table.

“Do you like it?” Victor asked. Yuri realized that his hair was still being combed steadily, the strands now almost dry. He nodded vaguely, eyes moves over the rainbow of swirls layered up his arm. “You can do that too.”

Yuri looked up at the man then.

“When you find yourself where you were a moment ago, you can paint yourself instead of hurting.” Victor told him. “I did it too when I was younger. When I couldn’t sleep, I used to paint pictures all up and down my legs until I could fall asleep. Sometimes I’d paint for hours until I passed out. It worked a lot better than ripping my skin apart.”

“How?” Yuri asked, his throat tightening painfully from his screaming.

“It makes you focus. If you concentrate on that, making something you’re proud of, it distracts from that which may cause you pain.” Victor explained.

Yuri looked up, locking eyes with Victor’s blue green ones then.

“Like it?” the man asked again. Yuri smiled absently, nodding. “Why don’t you try?”

Yuri looked down to the paints on the table, deciding on the black one, and starting with a new brush. He sat up straighter, looking down at his stomach. Laying in an awful, half scabbed, half scarred lines were the words идеально (perfect) and сломанный (broken). Slowly, the scene of a sunset in black and red and pink came to life over top of the words that he couldn’t really read anyway. Skin is not meant to have words cut into it. Tiny yellow dots acted as stars, white clouds tinged purple. By the time he finished, Yuri’s eyes were drooping low, the paintbrush held loosely in his hand.

Sleep was peaceful and dark, filling with images of beautiful sunsets and swirling rainbow stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and let me know what you think! :)


	6. Small Talks and Opening Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor opens up to Yuri about his past with a pink bracelet. Yuri doesn't feel so bad today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! I think this story is just about wrapped up, with maybe one more chapter on the way to finish it out. I hope you like it, thank you for sticking by me through this, and I hope you all have a happy new year!

Painting was making everyday life easier to struggle through. The next morning, Yuri found that he didn’t have to fight an internal battle to just do something. He got up and stood in front of his mirror for a few minutes. A moment and he was picking up his phone and taking a picture of his sunset and the purple, rainbow pattern on his arm. He made a decision then that he would keep a journal of his paintings, because now that he’d started and found something that might work, he didn’t plan to give it up.

He realized that day in practice that ice skating was the same way.

Of course, there were days he didn’t want to skate. There were days that were hard and pushed him way past his limits, and those were the days that broke him. Those were the days Yuri ended up with his nails or a blade in his skin.

But, the more he thought about it throughout the day, the longer a list he seemed to make of little things. Little things that had honestly kept him alive. Ice skating was first. Though it wasn’t little anymore, he thought to himself that if he died, he would miss ice skating. He would miss his cat, too. His grandpa was a little bit allergic to cats, so he wouldn’t want to snuggle with him if Yuri wasn’t there to do it. He’d miss going to the park with Stepan and Nikita in the summer, swinging on the swings, having a contests of who could get the highest. (Stepan usually won since he had this strange draw towards dangerous things.) In the spring, there was a specific flower that was Yuri’s to water and tend to in his grandpa’s garden. Of course, he was sure his grandfather would take care of them, but those were Yuri’s flowers. He liked to care for them.

The list got longer as he continued skating. He hadn’t even realized he’d skated his entire short program routine until he was done. Yuri was panting a little, but something inside him felt good. He felt accomplished. He couldn’t remember a thing that just happened, having gone on autopilot and just let his body take over, but he could tell it had been good.

Yuri let himself settle from his final pose and looked around. No one else was on the ice, all the other skaters having left to stand outside the rink and watch. The entire room was silent. The music hadn’t played anywhere but in his heart, his feet, leaving the room so incredibly still, Yuri couldn’t believe it.

“That was amazing, Yuri!” someone called, finally breaking the silence.

Then the entire room was erupting in cheers and exclamations of delight. Yakov had a pleased smile on, nodding his head slowly. Lilia was smiling too, clapping along with the other skaters. There were people rushing towards him on the ice now, Yuuri and Victor pulling him into a hug as Mila and Georgi also joined them. The four were nearly shouting praise, pulling a smile onto Yuri’s face, the younger blonde laughing lightly.

“That was great!”

“How did you do that?”

“Way to go, Yuri!”

“You looked absolutely beautiful!”

“You’ve got it! You felt the agape!”

That performance stayed with him for the rest of the day. Everyone’s smiles stayed with him too, as well as their praises and excitement. He found himself coasting a little bit, the high spirits of everyone around him keeping him floating. There wouldn’t be a crash tonight, he could tell.

Yuri made a mental list of the things he would do when he got home. Over and over again, he reminded himself to take it slow, don’t rush through anything. It was when he took life at breakneck speed that everything got out of control. That was when the world sped up around him, dragging him tripping just to keep up.

He climbed out of the car with Victor, Yuuri, and his grandfather when they got home that evening. As they made their way into the house, Yuri forced himself to take slow, deliberate steps, though careful to not make it too slow or choppy. Once inside, Yuri filled the cat’s food bowl, refilled the water bowl and went to change into his pajamas. Afterwards, the four sat down in the dining room together and ate, talking quietly about their days. Nikolai was very impressed when Victor and Yuuri told him about Yuri’s short program practice today. Yuri thought that they made it sound better than it probably was, but since he couldn’t remember it, he supposed that he could let them talk him up this one time.

Dinner ended and Yuri opted to clean the dishes. Victor came in to help, the older man washing and Yuri drying and placing the dishes back in the cabinets were they belonged.

“Did it help?” Victor asked out of the blue.

“What?” Yuri asked, placing another plate in the stack.

“Painting. You seemed better today.” Victor offered.

“Oh, right. Yes, it helped.” Yuri said.

Victor nodded, focussing on the forks he was rinsing. Yuri watched as he did so. Had Victor really once been where he was? Had he really gone through this too?

“Victor?” Yuri said quietly, taking the forks from the older man, wiping them down with his towel and placing them in the drawer. The silver haired man hummed gently in acknowledgment. “Did you really… Did you go through this too?”

Victor was sighing a little, hanging his head and gripping the edge of the sink. He closed his eyes momentarily before turning his blue green gaze on the fifteen year old.

“Yes. I did.” he said. “How much of it have you heard?”

Yuri shrugged. “Not much…”

Victor nodded a little, turning his eyes away to stare into the soapy water. “I was a little younger than you when it started. Everything had to be perfect, and if it wasn't, it was wrong. Mistakes weren't simple. They were something that I hated. I still don't like making mistakes.”

“No one likes messing up.” Yuri offered. Victor nodded.

“No, they don't. And it would have been okay if they were just that: mistakes that I didn't like. I could fix mistakes. The problem came when I let those small problems define me, and the way I saw myself.”

“...” Yuri wasn’t sure what to say.

“I let those mistakes take over my life. It got so bad that I didn't see my actions as mistakes, I saw myself as the problem. I was the mistake. Everything built up and up and got worse over time, but I had learned to hide it. I learned that if I said anything to anyone, they would try to do something. They would try and 'help' me. Eventually, I just stopped mentioning it. I let them believe that when I messed up, I didn't hold it against me. I didn't bottle it up and let it grow and fester and chew away at my chest. I hid it. I hid it so well that it took a year and a half before anyone noticed. It was summer and I went with a group of friends to swim. Usually, I wore enough clothes to hide where I took my frustrations out on myself. But, when you swim you can't wear that many clothes. So, without thinking about it, I went and had fun and then everything spiraled right out of control. One of my friends noticed these god awful scars criss crossing on my ribs. They pushed and pushed and pushed until I had to tell them what I was doing. After that, they kept this annoyingly close watch on me. They told Yakov and suddenly my life was defined by a pink bracelet.” Victor had turned and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms in front of him. Yuri noticed how his pulled at the edges of his sleeves, as if attempting to hide again.

He didn’t know what to say. He felt like anything he’d come up with would be totally inadequate for the situation. It would be wrong and insensitive. What do you say to something like that? When he tried to think back to anything someone said to him, he realized that he hadn’t actually opened up to anyone. No one knew where his pain came from. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he knew.

“What did you do?” Yuri asked quietly, locking his eyes on the floor. He hated that floor. It was ugly with it’s awful yellow and green linoleum pattern.

“See, Yuri, I wish I could tell you that I started getting better. I want to tell you that everyone was a big help in my recovery and that before I knew it, everything was okay again. You and I both know that would be a lie.” Victor said with a sigh.

Yuri nodded, still eyeing the floor.

“It took a long time before I could make a mistake and let it go. It took a long time before I stopped cutting. No one offered solutions. What they wanted to do was watch me and convince me that if I tried hard enough or ignored it enough, I would be okay. That is not the appropriate response to mental and emotional conditions. It's a health issue, and a lot of people don't see it like that. They want to stick a bandaid over it and leave it alone until it heals. You can't do that. Not with the emotions that rule your life and the brain that controls how you see everything, how you think. Tell me, Yuri, has anyone just sat down with you and talked it out? Has anyone tried to understand what you're feeling?” Victor said.

Shocked, Yuri’s head snapped up. His eyes focussed on Victor’s noting how completely serious, though genuinely interested the look in the older’s eyes was.

“No… They haven’t…” Yuri said. He pulled his arms up over his chest and crossed them, rubbing at the skin where the purple paint had been last night. Victor nodded as if he’d already known the answer. Which, Yuri supposed, he had. “Not even Nikita asked…”

“Yuri, I'm not going to force you to tell us. I want you to feel comfortable letting us in. I want you to understand that it might help you see things a little clearer. Until I opened up to one of my friends, I couldn't really identify where my problem was. I didn't know what the triggers were or what would send me into a fit. Not everyone can offer much in the way of advice, but if you say it out loud, it allows for the opportunity to see it from a different angle. Okay?” Victor said, putting a hand lightly on Yuri’s shoulder. Yuri kept his eyes locked on Victor’s, thinking. He nodded.

“Okay.” Yuri said.

“Good. What do you want to do now?” Victor said.

Yuri shrugged. “I meant to call Nikita tonight and talk to him. But after that, can we paint?”

“Paint together? Sure, we can do that. Yuuri too?” Victor turned and let the water drain out of the sink. He dried his hands on a towel and hung it back on the oven door. Yuri hung his towel up too.

“Yeah. Yuuri too.”

Before sleeping that night, Yuri took pictures of all the scenes the three of them painted on themselves. Victor used a lot of grey and white, Yuuri’s splashes of purples and pinks, oranges and yellows. Yuri found himself painting words over top of his scars. “Good enough”, “getting better”, and “not alone” replacing that which had hurt him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think :)


	7. Pink Bracelets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri's happy after winning gold, and everyone throws him a surprise birthday party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all. This is a short, very short, final chapter to wrap everything up. I wish it was longer, but this felt like a good ending. Anyway, I hope you have all enjoyed this story and let me know if you want to see more from this bracelet idea. You can find me on Tumblr at RobinPlaysTrumpet15.tumblr.com and ask any questions you like, send in prompts, or just talk. Again, thank you so much for staying with me through this, and I hope that I've touched some people, maybe helped a little. Thank you guys for all your support, in put, and love. Read you later ;)

Gold. Yuri had won gold. And Yuuri had silver.

Never in all his life, had Yuri expected to feel this good. Not since everything started. Not since that first sign of darkness crept into his mind and made him second guess himself. He hadn’t felt so content and confident and happy in his entire fifteen years of life.

And that showed. His smile was bright, and he was shaking with the residual nerves that hadn’t quite left. Yuri could feel a high coming on, and he was sure that Victor and Yuuri saw it too, but that was okay. He knew what to do. Maybe he couldn’t stave it off, maybe there would be a crash later, but Yuri was good for now. He knew he could handle it.

Of course, there would be days that left him crying and screaming. He was scared of the next time he found himself wanting to cut. Within the past month, he’d wanted to a couple of times, but he hadn’t been alone then. Victor and Yuuri had been around to talk him down, cuddle him up in blankets and smiles, and painted with him.

Yuri wasn’t sure he could do this alone.

When he noticed he’d felt himself deflate a little, he took in a deep breath and lifted his chin. He smiled as brightly and as genuinely as he could.

‘I can do this. I’m not alone.’ Yuri thought to himself.

As he, Yuuri, and JJ left the ice, the first person he latched onto and hugged was Yuuri. They were halfway across the rink when Yuri let his medal hang from his neck and wrapped both arms tightly around the 24 year old. Yuuri startled suddenly, nearly losing his footing, but the blonde held on, hugging his friend as tightly as he could.

A smile was pulling at his lips, and tears rushing down his cheeks. Yuuri hugged him back, squeezing tightly and holding the teen close.

“I am so proud of you, Yuri. You know that, right?” Yuuri said into soft blonde hair, pulled back in a ponytail. The cheers from the crowd were deafening, some screams and cries having grown louder at the sight of the skaters hugging. Yuri nodded, pulling back from Yuuri and wiping the tears from his cheeks. “I won’t say don’t cry, for not all tears are an evil.” Yuuri said.

Yuri snorted out a laugh. “Stop quoting Gandalf, piggy.” Yuuri laughed too. He flung an arm around Yuri’s shoulders and led the way off the ice.

Once back on the floor with the guards on the blades of their skates, Victor was hugging them both, the two looping arms around him too.

“My two favorite Yuri’s.” Victor said. “I’m so proud.”

They laughed together.

Once the hug ended, and Yuri noticed the couple getting sappy, he exclaimed loudly about it before going off to find Yakov and Lilia. He was ready to go back to the hotel and chill a little before the banquet later that night. Victor and Yuuri wished him well as he walked away and went back to their sappiness. Yuri smiled to himself, stuffing one hand in his pocket as he took his duffel bag from Yakov and slung it over his shoulder.

“You did well, Yura.” Yakov said, his gruff voice sounding happy.

“Thanks, coach.”

*

A couple months passed and Yuri sat quietly on his bed. It was his birthday, but he’s elected not to do anything. Nikita and Stepan were supposed to come over later for dinner, cake, and presents, but other than that, he had requested no party. Sometimes, that request had gone ignored, but Yuri would admit he’d had fun at those parties. This year though, everyone seemed as if they were going to stick to exactly what Yuri had said. The part of his chest that was sinking lower towards a breakdown sighed in relief.

A quick glance up at his clock showed it was two in the afternoon.

Suddenly, his door was flying open and there were people rushing in yelling “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”. Yuri damn near shouted at the sudden outburst, his phone flying to some corner of his room. Joining him on the bed was Nikita and Stepan, Yuuri holding a lit birthday cake and Victor throwing confetti into the air.

Yuri stared around him, wondering whether or not he was dreaming, and if not, why Yuuri and Victor were here. Last he checked, they were back in Japan. Victor was supposed to be back home soon to start training again under Yakov, but Yuuri was still unsure what to do.

“What’s going on here?” Yuri demanded.

“Your birthday party! Come on!” Stepan exclaimed, grabbing the blonde’s arm and dragging him up from the bed. They led him into the conjoined dining room and living room, showing off the handiwork that Yuri had somehow missed earlier. He hadn’t left his room since after showering that morning, so he supposed they’d had plenty of time to set up a party. Sitting in the living room was his grandfather, Yakov, Lilia, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor, and Otabek.

Yuri was at a loss. He’d said no party, and he was sure that everyone was going to keep to that this year. The longer he looked around at everyone, the more he noticed a similar trend. The cake was pink. And so were the streamers. The confetti was sparkly pink. And literally everyone had on a pink shirt. On everyone’s wrist was a pink bracelet just like his: plastic and sparkly, hard to cut, and holding a lot more meaning than a pink bracelet ever should.

Suddenly Yuri was smiling, pulling his friends into tight hugs, slapping Yuuri’s arm and demanding why he hadn’t been told he was coming.

Watching from the side, Victor smiled fondly.

He wasn’t scared of the pink bracelet on Yuri’s wrist anymore. It held significance and it identified that Yuri was hurting.

But now, it showed something else. Something hopeful. Pink bracelets were not a death sentence. They were for healing. As he looked down at his own bracelet and then Yuri’s, Victor realized something.

He didn’t have to worry about pink bracelets. Everyone had battles, and he’d fought his. He was still fighting his. And so was Yuri. But they would be okay. Because they had something more important than a neon pink fabricky paper bracelet. They had life.

And looking around, Victor knew, deep down in his heart, that they would live every second of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much, and let me know what you think!


End file.
